


Built for Sin

by The_Consulting_Werewolf



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 17:16:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2700938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Consulting_Werewolf/pseuds/The_Consulting_Werewolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of events...a Dramione one-shot inspired by the song 'Built for sin' by Framing Hanley<br/>(a drabble really)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Built for Sin

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER:  
> The characters of the story and the line used in this work do not belong to me but to the greatest ever, JK Rowling.  
> The lyrics of the song are the property of Framing Hanley.

"There's a train leaving town  
If you hurry up, I think you just might make it  
Damn it, I hope you make it"

It was all so innocent. At first, that is. She was just seventeen and he was just seventeen as well. It was in the heat of the moment. There was a war going on. Loyalties were tested and battle lines were drawn. But two people from opposite sides saw how their paths kept crossing. He had said, "I want to run away."

She had replied, "So run."

No one knew about the secret. Their clandestine meetings. He was tired and so was she. He had to bear his family's shame and fear, inked forever in a mark, living and slithering on his arm. She had to exhaust her brain, her mind, her soul to fight a battle that never ceased to stop.

They did not trust each other at first. But they charmed each other to keep their secrets. Her tongue would not slip and so would not his.

It was really all so innocent.

Then he wanted to run. She went with him. It did not last long. But it was a train that took them far far away from responsibilities. And for that one day, unmitigated bliss was heaven.

 

"Conscience is a faint, unpleasant sound  
You're worried enough  
So here's your chance so take it  
Damn it, I hope you take it"

She was worried in the beginning. His tentative brush on her lips made her shiver. And worry so much. Letting him touch her, it was so alien and exciting.

In that gloomy room of that inn, her voice had quivered when she asked, "You want to touch me? Of all people?"

"Shut up," he had whispered, his grey eyes clouded with lust, "I don't care about all that shit anymore." And then he had kissed her. And touched her.

She was glad he took a chance on her. He was glad she let him. Where they were headed, they did not know. Did they care for all the repercussions? Not that afternoon, with the golden light hiding two secret lovers in a room that promised to keep their secret.

 

"A heart attack sleeping in your chest  
Waiting until the timing's best  
So make a move while you're still breathing"

Hiding, running and ending up in each other's arms in that room again. She did not follow the calendar. Neither did he. For that one year at least.

They needed each other; it became as important as breathing. They knew the dangers, the risks. Sometime she would wake up in the middle of night, her heart beating so fast, she wondered how no one else could hear it. Sometimes he would remember her in odd moments; her laugh, her smile, her hair, her touch, her eyes would flash in front of his eyes and he would find it so hard to breath, or even concentrate.

But they could only wait. No owls. Just the reassurance on both of their parts that every fortnight, they will be there. At the little station taking them to their stolen, brief moment of heaven.

 

"Say so long to innocence  
Underneath the evidence"

They had waved goodbye to innocence. Maybe their love was pure, their intent were pure. But to everybody—if they knew—they were guilty. As guilty as committing a crime, like murder or treason.

But underneath all the guilt, and hiding and reproach, there was one thing they could not deny...

They were in love.

 

"You taste like heaven  
But God knows  
You're built for sin"

She did not believe in heaven or hell. He had no concept of heaven or hell. But they knew, if there was a heaven, it was here—in each other's arms, in this gloomy room with even more melancholy upholstery. Sometimes they did not even disrobe, they would just lay there. Sometimes in silence or sometimes conversing, in hushed tones, of the war, of life.

A sinful virtue, she had told him. That is why she did this. He had laughed and said, "No, love, you are built for sin." She had laughed and smacked him on his chest, playfully.

 

"There's a lie for every truth  
If you take these pills  
I think you just might make it  
Damn it, I hope you make it"

Then the world had collapsed mercilessly on them. He had watched her get tortured. He had done nothing. Just stared at her, with moist eyes and lips bitten near to bleeding. Her heart had broken that day. And she had prayed for death.

But she could not fathom, he prayed for death as well. Not hers though.

And death she had wanted when she had been rescued. No one knew how she got hold of those sleeping pills. She had bought them once because they were moments when she could not sleep. That night, it was the same old nightmare. She was naked, crying and he wielded the wand, hurting her, watching her cry. She had woken up. Taken just one pill. Then his voice told her, his soft voice in her head, "Take it. You can make it."

Yes, maybe she could get that heaven again. Maybe death was the answer. So she had downed the entire bottle. She remembered feeling light. She remembered the last day they had together. But it did not last long, her stolen, perverted bliss. She woke up to two pairs of emerald and sapphire eyes. Concerned and worried. She had cried. Just cried.

 

"When you were mine, was I for you  
Just one cheap thrill just to help you make it  
Damn it I hope you didn't fake it"

Then she met him again. His heart had fluttered, an apology and declaration ready on his lips. The timing was bad. Curses flew everywhere and the castle crumbled in place, making a collision course of sorts and he could not get to her. But he saw it. The flash of indignation and hatred.

But he did not. He never faked it. Tears burned his eyes but he forced it down. He still loved her. But a new thought had settled in his mind. He never deserved her.

 

"Hypocrisy had aged you well  
The white on your nose is your secret to tell  
So you should speak while they're still listening"

Three years since the war ended. The memories were still mint fresh. She had moved on and so had he. But they were really good at lying. They knew where their hearts belonged.

She gave away herself to the man she knew since she was a child. The glimmer in his eyes made her happy. But for a while. Deep down, her hypocrisy singed her. The secret was hers to keep, but to promise love to another made her weep.

He let his mother decide his future. She was never meant for him anyway. They fixed the date like they fixed the woman he was supposed to "love". At the alter that day, as he parroted the vows, the words pouring from the lips that once claimed her, he thought if everybody could tell his secret. If anybody knew how much of a hypocrite he was here, saying things he should say to her, not the vessel of procreation they had chosen for him.

 

"Say so long to innocence  
Underneath the evidence  
You taste like heaven  
But God knows  
You're built for sin"

He once said she was built for sin. His own personal drug. She sometimes missed being that.

He once told her she was built for sin. He craved her sometimes.

 

"You can scream out loud  
But your panic falls on deaf ears"

Can he forget her? No.

Can she forget him? No.

Their secret is wrapped around her like an invisible cloak of silk. Sometimes she can touch it and remember. He has her trapped in a corner of his mind. He knows his wife knows that he does not completely belong to her.

 

"This is where you've brought yourself  
This is what you've always feared"

Some days she accolades herself for managing not to run into him for nineteen years. She is proud she has kept the secret. The flames of the love they once shared is there, she can feel it even though she wished she could not. All she can think at times is how he did not try to save her. When the skies are grey she wonders if he belonged to her as she belonged to him. She regrets the miss of a confrontation. But she fears the outcome.

He never went to her. He knows he should have. He feared meeting her, fearing his own broken soul that he did not want to flay naked and vulnerable at her. He was her prisoner. For nineteen years he wondered. For nineteen years he let life go by and consume him. He feared the outcome. He cherished his life even though he was forever haunted by regrets. But he acknowledges it is too late.

Then, it was the first of September. They feared this day. Then the steam on the platform shifted and their fears got realised.

 

"There's a faceless crowd  
With no sympathy  
So you can scream out loud  
But there's no one listening"

There was her husband and her kids, but the crowd around her dissipated when her eyes clashed with the gray. He looked older and broken. For a brief second, she saw the flash of regret. Her heart raced and her limbs felt numb. She wanted to scream at him. But she could not find her voice.

His wife was there, bidding goodbye to his son. He saw the brief ignition of recognition and indignation burn bright in her eyes. He wanted to drop his stare but could not. She was older, but still beautiful.

A train, a room, sunlight draping limbs and faces, sin, heaven and hell, memories, war, hurt, regret. It all churned into a thick fog, wrapping around them. They wondered how no one else could see it.

She broke his gaze only when she heard her husband say, "Look who it is."

He looked away when his wife asked, "Is that Harry Potter?" So he curtly nodded.

 

"Say so long to innocence

Underneath the evidence

You taste like heaven

But God knows

You're built for sin"

**Author's Note:**

> PS. To those who have read my Drarry fic, I would like to say that Drarry is one of my numerous ships. Dramione is, however, my OTP. :)


End file.
